


seconds away

by haipollai



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 2014 Winter Olympics, Comfort Sex, M/M, Post-Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 13:57:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3731413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haipollai/pseuds/haipollai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he manages to fish his phone out, it’s Roman's face looking back at him from the screen. "Fuck." He'd tried to reach Roman earlier but had gotten a quiet 'later' for his efforts and had let it go. He quickly answers now, slipping away from the ping pong game. He can feel the watching them, even if the sound of the ball going still wasn't clue enough. "Hey.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	seconds away

Shea's phone starts buzzing while he's watching Sid take on PK and Lu, he'd originally been playing but PK had dramatically tried to lunge out of the way of a shot. He called them babies and let Sid fight on on his own. 

He's not sure who would be calling him, anyone looking for him would probably be there in the Canada House. 

When he manages to fish his phone out, it’s Roman's face looking back at him from the screen. "Fuck." He'd tried to reach Roman earlier but had gotten a quiet 'later' for his efforts and had let it go. He quickly answers now, slipping away from the ping pong game. He can feel the watching them, even if the sound of the ball going still wasn't clue enough. "Hey.”

"Shea! Are you- did I-"

"It’s fine, Roman."

Roman sucks in a sharp breath. "I'm outside?" Its practically a whisper, probably so he can deny it if Shea is too busy.

"I'll be right there. Do you want to come in?"

He finds Roman right away, there's plenty of other athletes outside, lingering and chatting. Roman has found a bench and trying not to look dejected but his shoulders are slumped. He’s a forlorn figure in the middle of everyone else. Shea sits next to him, careful about letting Roman dictate his own needs. Especially here outside. Roman immediately slides over to tuck against Shea's side.

"Everyone is shrugging it off and- and _bullshit_." He spits the words out. "Stupid, shouldn't have expected to go too far. Good we made it at all, ja?" He sighs and for the first time Shea notices the bottle in his hands. 

"Losing always sucks." He kisses the top of Roman's head and hopes in the darkness no one is too focused on them. "Come inside?" He wants to do more for Roman than he can here.

"Roommate?"

"Sid won't care. He can go find Malkin." He takes the bottle from Roman, there's not much missing which is reassuring. "You came to me before getting drunk?"

"Didn't start with that." Roman doesn't make a grab for it though, just watches him with hooded eyes. Shea moves slowly, hoping he manages to look nonchalant but that's hard with Roman so focused. He opens the bottle and takes a long swallow, it's actually good, whoever had bought it had splurged. "We should go inside," Roman says, his voice coming out choked.

Shea smirks and gets to his feet, holding out a hand to help Roman up. It’s easy to slip his arm over Roman’s shoulders, and it's worth it when Roman sinks into him. "You sure you don't want to be with your team? You'll see me again soon enough," Shea asks. 

Roman frowns at his feet. "I know I should," he enunciates each word carefully, as if reciting a speech. Maybe he is, maybe he's been expecting this question and decided to prepare. Or maybe he needed something to tell himself when slipping away from his team. "Maybe after you fuck me into the cheap mattresses here, I can..." He gestures vaguely with one hand.

"Josi." He moves to stand in front of him, resting his forehead against Roman's, Shea knows that tone, it’s too much like last season, trying to handle it ending too soon. "You didn't let anyone down." He tries to use his best captain voice. Just because technically he's not Roman's captain here doesn't mean he's going to stop filling the roll, he’s going to look out for him. Especially if it will finally get Roman inside. 

Roman takes the bottle from him and Shea tries to keep his sudden fear that Roman is going to decide to head back to the Swiss House from his face. "Inside?" He asks instead, smirking around the lip of the bottle. 

"Come on." He hooks his arm over Roman’s shoulders, pulling him against his side. Shea is grateful most of the house is taken up by the hockey team, they recognize Roman and immediately understand. Sid is still at the ping pong table when Shea sticks his head in. "Sleep on Tazer's floor."

Sid takes a few seconds to look, taking in Roman a step behind Shea. "I'm sorry, you guys played well," he says to Roman, looking like he truly means it. "Don't use my bed," he says to Shea.

"Not a concern," he smiles in relief. In a few weeks they'll be back to trying to take each other out but it's good to know right now Sid has his back. They get upstairs quickly, as soon, as the door soon closes behind them Shea is pulling him up. His hands curl around Roman's ass and Roman immediately has his legs hooked around his waist.

He bites lightly at Roman's lower lip. "What do you want?" Roman starts to say something but then snaps his jaw shut and seems to actually think it over. Shea walks him over to the bed and carefully lays him down. He presses a kiss to the curve of his jaw. Roman sighs softly. "We don't have to do anything."

Roman murmurs something in German but Shea only catches captain. His fingers drag over Shea’s neck, scratching lightly at the nape of his neck.

Shea gives him another kiss before ducking his head lower to suck a bruise into Roman’s skin at his collarbone. "Guess I'll just figure it out?"

"Trust you."

Shea chokes back a groan because he wasn't expecting that. "Your shirt." he grits out and Roman is quickly moving to toss it aside. There's a bruise on his side from blocking a shot and he starts to shift down shift but Roman catches his shoulder.

"You too."

Roman's hands start peeling at his pants too, while Shea gets his shirt off. "Lie back down," Shea orders, knowing that glint in his eye. Any other time he'd be all,on board with Roman sucking his dick but that's not the point right now.

Roman's pants go next and even though he pouts about it, he stretches out in bed. Shea starts back at his original goal, mouthing the bruise while his fingers skim up to tweak a nipple. He moves slightly, teasing Roman's other nipple with alternating sucks and bites, worrying it until it's hard and pebbled. Underneath him, Roman's breaths come in quick open mouthed gasps.

Shea dips lower, pressing a kiss to his sternum and his stomach. Its ok to leave bruises now, there's no one to see for a few weeks. They'll be gone when the Olympic break is over. He noses at the bruise from the puck and leaves his own on Roman's hip and another on his thigh.

Roman moans his name, hooking a leg over his shoulder. "Please," He sighs, low and rough. Another time Shea would draw it out, tease until Roman was begging but this is about Roman right now. He gives his cock a few quick strokes before wrapping his lips around the head. Roman lets out a string of curses in German, his hips jerking up and Shea keeps his jaw slack so Roman fucks his mouth.

Slowly, wanting to be careful but wanting Roman to feel good, he lowers his head, this time making sure to grip Roman's hips. He can feel one of Roman's hands tangle,in his hair, clenching at the short strands. 

He starts an easy pace, dragging his tongue over the shaft as his head moves. Roman's noises come out more muffled and when Shea glances up he sees him biting hard on his hand. He groans and it draws a full body shudder from Roman. He pulls off of Roman's cock, ignoring his plaintive whine.

"Stop that," his voice is already wrecked, this can't be the best example for an A to set but he doesn’t care.

There are teeth marks in the webbing by his thumb when he frees his hand. "Trying to be quiet.” Each word is carefully ground out as if Roman is having a hard time figuring out the English but then he's spent the last few weeks with the Switzerland team, playing with them and living with them.

Shea gently pushes down on Roman's lower lip with two of his fingers and he gets it immediately, tongue curling around them, sucking them into his mouth. He smirks at Shea around his mouthful, knowing how he looks right now. 

He drops his head back to Roman's dick, focusing on the head. He teases the slit with his tongue and curls his free hand round the base, jerking quickly. Shea can feel each noise Roman makes, vibrating over his fingers. He drops his hand lower, palming his balls and Roman arches up, every muscle taught.

Shea's fingers slip from his mouth and instead of trying to quiet Roman again, he draws them down, leaving a trail of saliva over his chest and thighs and down to his ass. 

"Fuck, fuck, Shea." Each syllable sounds like it's being punched out of him. Shea teases the tight muscle with one finger, waits until the tension thrumming through Roman eases slightly. Then he thrusts one in up to the first knuckle and at the same time sucks hard on his cock. Roman doesn't get his hands up in time, or doesn't care because Shea can hear his strangled cry when he comes.

Shea sucks him through his release, until he slumps back to the bed. He sits back up on his knees, looking down on Roman, wrecked and gorgeous. His lips are swollen and red and he doesn't resist ducking down to kiss him, licking his way into his mouth.

"You're still hard," Roman murmurs when the kiss ends. 

"Taking care of you first."

"Fucking me is a good way to do that."

Shea groans. "One second." He quickly gets off the bed to fumble through his things, he almost hadn't packed lube but Roman had made a face at him and now he's grateful he did. Roman makes a sound from the bed and he glances up to see Roman slowly working one finger into himself, heels digging into the mattress to arch his hips into the air. Once he has Shea's attention, a second finger is slowly added.

He kneels back between Roman's thighs. Roman's still loose and relaxed and his fingers slip in easily. Everything is too desperate, he opts to not spend as much time as he otherwise might making sure Roman's ready. Roman's legs are around his hips as he thrusts in, pulling Shea tight against him. He doesn't last long, he's too worked up from getting Roman off. Each thrust is overwhelming and Roman just lets him take and take.

He's careful pulling out, sure that Roman's sore after all of that. There’s no game tomorrow though, it’s not a luxury they get that often. 

"Danke," he mumbles, stretching slowly. Shea kisses the inside of his knee as he gets up to get a cloth to wipe them off with. Roman lets out small sounds when Shea runs the cloth over his ass. When he's satisfied they'll only be cleaner with a shower, he lies down next to him, pulling Roman close, kissing him softly. 

"Ok?" He knows it's not better, a fuck wouldn't make it better.

"Ok. Wish I could stay."

"Wish you were staying too." 

Roman props his head up on his palm while the fingers of the other idly trace Shea's cheek and jawline. "Win it, yea?"

"You'll have to wear my jersey." Shea runs his hands down Roman’s side.

Roman shrugs. "You win gold, you can fuck me in it. But maybe.” He pushes on Shea’s shoulder until he rolls onto his back and Roman stretches out on top of him. “Maybe you not win gold, you wear my jersey? Hm?” 

“Changing the terms of our bet?”

Roman smirks, his lips against Shea’s neck. “No, motivation.” His teeth graze Shea’s neck but don’t dig in, not leaving behind any marks. He lifts up and kisses Shea on the mouth, sucking on his lower lip. “Deal?” He reaches over the bed to grab the bottle, straddling Shea’s hips when he sits up. “Well? Scared?”

“Fuck you.” When he kisses Roman he tastes like vodka and sweat and his lips part eagerly for Shea.


End file.
